


I'm Only Human (With My Cross To Bear)

by Meduseld



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 22:22:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14840279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: Bucky gets better. And eventually, so does his sex life.





	I'm Only Human (With My Cross To Bear)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2014, [ for this prompt](https://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19458.html?thread=47101698#t47101698) so you know what you're getting in to.

Weapons don't want. The Asset learns that quickly, building on lessons learned the first time Zola bound him to a table and pulled him apart. It takes James Barnes a long time to unlearn it.

In his first weeks with the Avengers he barely eats or sleeps, unsure what he's allowed. Wanting doesn't even cross his mind. When he was on missions, he was only allowed enough control over himself as needed to complete his objectives. HYDRA made sure he knew nothing he had was actually his, down to the arm they had deigned to grace him with. It takes time for his body to return to him.

Between cryo and the cocktail drugs they’d pumped him with, his sense of taste was gone, smell extremely dulled, skin numb; weapons aren't even allowed pain. He pulls his body in as much as possible, shrinking around corners, trying to keep everyone from noticing he should be locked up, locked away. What kind of freak can't even inhabit his own body without feeling like he's trespassing? But slowly, things change. One day he wakes up and the smell from breakfast makes him throw up.

It's strange to count it as a victory, but that's the day he realizes that his senses have been returning, even if they’re dulled. It's even better because after Steve had made sure he was okay, he brought him breakfast he could actually taste. Well not the eggs or toast, but he could taste orange juice and coffee and bacon. It's the first time in years that he's felt full.

Touch is slightly more complicated.

It comes and goes, and it seems to be selective. Steve is the first, of course, and it never goes away again. It helps that he's not shy about touching Bucky, even if he always asks if he can. He can feel Natasha's skin or clothes or hair but it takes a while before he can sense her temperature. He always asks her if he can. The others come along in fits and starts. Stark takes the longest, but even he stays for good before Bucky really gets the full range of pain sensation back. But the hardest thing by far is the return of his libido.

He's had no sexual contact in decades, nothing but clinical touches. He knows SHIELD's shrinks and Steve worried about what HYDRA might have done to him, but they never let  _that_ happen. Too much risk that the trauma would destroy the fragile balance they'd created in his mind. Besides, at that point he'd been so dehumanized he thinks they didn't fuck him for the same reasons most people wouldn't fuck dogs.

So at first he only checks sensation in his genitals as part of his daily assessment to see what seems to be working; just another item in inventory. Then the sweeps of his hand on himself feel good. He half remembers the first time around, the early puberty of a Catholic boy sharing a room with two siblings. Even then he'd felt less shame, less fear. It scares him and he stops.

In more lucid moments he thinks he must have been born under cursed stars, to live through this twice. It doesn't help that he remembers what he used to touch himself to (the curve of Steve’s lips, his quick hands, the light in his hair. All things that haven't changed). Maybe his stars weren’t so bad, if he got Steve twice. Steve who still looks at him like he hung the moon, who won't give up even when Bucky wants to. But that makes it worse when he can't just ignore the sensation.

Just his underwear, his pants, the sheets of his bed and he's achingly hard. One more touch and he goes off, all at once, and Bucky spends weeks on edge, making everyone nervous and constantly changing clothes. He's too keyed up to even enjoy the sensations. Bucky ends up spending a lot of time in the shower. It tapers off eventually, unlike his guilt at the way he still notices Steve. Steve who still knows him best, and hasn’t left him. Bucky doesn't know what he'd do without him. He has a feeling that he's done this before, pined for Steve in silence, drinking in as much of his presence as he can before he's caught.

He feels like that until the day he idly thinks 'I wonder what Steve kisses like' and the memories hit him like a freight train. It was like that the first time around too, the guilt giving way to idle wondering he slowly parlayed into touching, into loving. Are his stars good enough to give him Steve like that twice?

He’s still thinking about it when Bruce finds him on the floor, which is an increasingly rare occurrence. "You okay?" he says, a single warm hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder, and he realizes that for once he doesn't feel like his skin doesn't fit right. "Yeah. I think I am".

Afterwards he finds Steve.

He can't make the words come, but Steve looks at his eyes and he knows. He doesn't expect anything, he tells Bucky, he's happy enough just having Bucky back. "I want." Bucky says and Steve slowly, slowly takes his hand.

They talk for a long time and Bucky finds the way his heart skips in his chest to be oddly comforting. It’s  _normal_. As the sun is rising, they both agree that Bucky is Not-There-Yet. He goes to his own room and sleeps better than he can ever remember.

That settles into months of Bucky trying to remember that no one owns him but him and that he needs to eat when he's hungry and that he shouldn't ignore pain. He joins the team, and holds hands with Steve, and slaps Clint five because he can actually feel their palms touch. He eats every bite of the spicy Indian dishes Bruce makes and enjoys both the taste and the burn. When he's alone with Steve they press their sides together and Bucky sighs. He asks permission to feel Steve’s heartbeat, not because Steve is a superior but because he likes knowing that Steve is okay with the touches. He relishes all of it, even post-mission aches, short lived as they are. Because all of it is  _his_.

It works for a good, long, while.

But Bucky  _wants_. The touches Steve gives him, an innocent hand on his, a feather light kiss on his cheek, aren't enough. He feels unaccountably greedy for wanting more, especially if Steve doesn't seem to need it. He’s getting frustrated and that's worse, because of the little looks everyone gives him. He might not fear cryo or restraints or electricity anymore, but those fears have been replaced by the impending doom of the day when everyone realizes that he's not worth it, that he doesn't belong here. The day when all those kind eyes turn cold. He has so much more to lose now.

He tries to fake it, to smile, but it's been too long since his childhood; he's lost the knack to being hungry. He’s extra fidgety on days when there's no mission to claim his time. On one of those days Clint asks to spar, eyes worried in a way that makes Bucky’s gut twitch, and Bucky jumps at the chance, itching to do  _something_. Steve usually watches but today he has some flimsy excuse. He’s had a few, lately. The words sail into Bucky’s ears and settle heavy in his gut.

He lays Clint flat and runs out, only vaguely sorry. He checks all the common areas before going to Steve’s room, blood pounding.

Adrenaline makes his ears even sharper than usual, and as he gets closer to the door, he can hear Steve’s voice, low and broken, whisper his name. His hand is on the handle before he knows it.

He's not sure what he was expecting, maybe Steve lamenting just how messed up Bucky is to someone sympathetic and gorgeous, but Steve is alone, naked from the waist down, gripping himself in a way that brings back a dizzying wave of deja vu.

"Steve..." he moans, closing the door behind him and the blond jumps guiltily on the bed. “Buck, I'm sorry, I-" Bucky cuts him off, dragging one flesh finger down the length of Steve’s hard cock. He’s salivating.

"You, want me?" Steve swallows hard "I. I do, but, you don't have to, I won't push, Bucky I swear you don't have-" this time Bucky cuts him off by pressing their lips together, hungrier and wetter than the chaste kisses they’ve been swapping behind closed doors. "You want me. I want to." he marvels.

He does, of course, but it's easier to frame it in the context of Steve’s desire, easier to want to please than to just want. He straddles Steve experimentally and the man whines. Bucky leans down to kiss him again, and Steve lets him. But when his hands move down to Steve’s waist, his arms come up and lock around Bucky’s shoulders. "Are you sure? We can stop, I promise." "I don't want to stop" he's never been surer of anything in his life. Steve surges up to meet him, and for the first time in nearly eighty years Bucky just feels.

His mind goes quiet and all there is the way their bodies move together, like this is what they were made for. Steve’s big warm hands roam his skin like he's worth touching, worth giving pleasure to. For once he doesn't feel like a stranger in his own body, his own life. One round bleeds into the next, the serums in both of them letting this one perfect moment in Bucky’s life go on.

"I love you, Buck. Always have" Steve whispers in his ear, and Bucky hides his face in the crook of his shoulder.

He wants more than anything to say it back. He licks Steve’s neck instead and hopes he understands.

After that, things change. For the better in some ways, for worse in others.

He sleeps in the same bed as Steve and his nightmares retreat. He still wakes up screaming some nights, but Steve is there. And some nights it's Steve that wakes up screaming, and Bucky is honored that he can be the one to be strong for Steve. On the whole Bucky feels centered, grounded.

On the other hand, Bucky’s still... _hungry_. Always. That night just woke up his libido, for real this time instead of the earlier maddening trial run. And they're not really doing anything about it. Bucky doesn't know how to ask, and Steve just doesn't.

Every morning Bucky wakes up hard, next to an equally hard Steve, who just rolls off him and into the shower. Bucky doesn't think he can join him. Steve would have said, right? And what does that say about Bucky? He doesn't know if it's normal to think about it this much, to want it this much.

The only things he has to go on are his still diffuse memories. Brooklyn is a warm distant haze, where he can remember quick furtive encounters, few and far between. He can still taste the bitter fear of getting caught, negative memories always easier than positive.

But behind the fear is the memory of Steve’s skinny hips under his hands, sharp collarbones overlaid with soft skin, the way he'd bite his lip to stop from making noise. The way he'd opened up so sweetly beneath him, full of such perfect trust. Bucky didn't tell him he loved him then, either.

And then had come the war, and Europe.

There’s a lot more there, in his memories, but the encounters were still rushed, clandestine. Hungrier and more desperate too. Every second counted when they were at war. Sam tells Bucky constantly that he's not at war any more. He’s not at HYDRA either. Or Brooklyn.

He's in Manhattan in the twenty first century and sometimes he has trouble looking Steve in the eye because if he does he might jump him and he's still not sure if that’s okay. And he doesn't have the words to ask.

One night, he tries to push against Steve, kissing his neck. Those blue eyes sparkle and he asks "Oh. You want to?" and there's something in that tone, some hidden hesitation that makes Bucky blush and back off. Steve presses a hand between the shoulder blades and doesn't touch him again the rest of the night.

It settles uncomfortably inside Bucky, this knowledge that he's still a deviant, still wants things he shouldn't. He almost wishes he could go back to a time without choice or desire because clearly he can't be trusted with it.

With a little time, and a lot of showers, Bucky manages to half convince himself that it wasn’t that good, that he doesn’t need it. He tells himself that it was because it was the first time after such a long time. Steve tells him that he loves him, constantly, and they kiss and hold each other and Bucky is so close to feeling whole.

The feeling lasts until New Haven happens.

On paper, the mission is easy, busting up an arms deal involving local players. In practice, it’s an absolute shit storm. The players aren’t just local, and the arms turn out to be knock-off Asgard tech, which means that they can’t just eliminate everyone on scene because they need to know where it came from.

The fight is tougher than they’ve had in a long while. One of the goons aims a damned RPG at Clint, and Bucky intercepts it with his metal shoulder. The blast knocks him into a nearby building, and while it hurts, making his teeth feel loose and bloody, Bucky knew he could take it. He’s done it before.

By the time he gets back on coms and makes it outside, there’s nothing left to do. Steve’s blown through everyone left like a human shaped hurricane, and there’s a terrified man in a suit babbling that he’ll tell Steve everything he wants to know if Steve won’t hurt him. He doesn’t calm down until he sees Bucky, in one piece and mostly not swaying, but even then he’s tense, prickly.

When they make it back to the condo they’re using as a makeshift HQ, Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s neck. In a second he’s surrounded by strong arms. “I thought, God, Bucky, do you know what I thought? I can’t lose you, I-” Bucky cuts him off by shoving his tongue in his mouth. Crude but effective. Steve kisses back like he’s drowning and Bucky is air.

It’s an easy move to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist and leverage them back into the wall. He can feel the exact moment Steve starts to pull away, to ask if he’s sure and “C’mon Stevie. Please. Please, baby” Steve pushes back into him and Bucky’s body sings. They end up breaking the wall.

But that’s not what breaks down all his rationalization. It’s what happens that same night, after they’ve accepted ribbing from the team for the hole in the wall and they’ve bunked down on a mattress in the middle of an empty room.

His thigh slides against Steve’s and in the darkness he whispers “Buck?” “’M here. Right here.”

Steve makes some sound in the darkness, something raw and naked that Bucky remembers in his soul, remembers coming from a Steve that was tiny and skinny and so, so stupidly brave. Still is. He can’t do anything but move his mouth to cover Steve’s, move his body to cover the only person he’s wholeheartedly loved.

“Stevie” he whispers and Steve keeps making those sounds. He moves inside Steve and for a moment it’s like they’re all that exists and Bucky could die right now and see his life fulfilled.

He wakes up the next morning and it feels like a hammer on his chest.

How can he live without this? How can he demand things like that from Steve? Steve, who is still sleeping so soundly beside him, exhausted and sticky, covered in  _still_  fading bruises because of Bucky. He kisses one golden shoulder and promises himself he won’t hurt Steve. He won’t allow himself.

That's what's running though his head like breathing.

It’s two in the morning and Bucky’s beating a punching bag. It’s Kevlar, extra reinforced, made special for their team. Its seams are starting to split.

It’s been two weeks since New Haven and Bucky’s had mostly sleepless nights. He’s promised himself he won’t touch Steve unless Steve asks him to. They’ve kissed and cuddled, and sometimes Bucky can sleep for a few hours before being overwhelmed by all the dirty things he wants to do with Steve. By the things he thinks about while he touches himself, listening to the running water of Steve’s shower. Every time he comes he gets hard again, and has to roll over to hide it.

It figures the version of the serum running in his veins would find new and exciting ways to ruin him.

So he comes down to the gym, and pictures his own face on the bag. The one constant in all the ruined things in Bucky’s life is himself, after all. After a particularly vicious kick, the bag spits sand and Bucky swears like the dockworker he was so many years ago.

“Buck?” He freezes.

“I…You haven’t been sleeping” Steve says, and an actual kicked puppy would be less sympathetic. He rolls his shoulders in an uneven shrug “Didn’t want to wake you. Figured…You should go back to bed.” Steve shakes his head, starts to say something, stops.

They stare at each other across the room and Bucky hates this ability he has to wreck everything without even trying.

He takes a step, stops. “Stevie, c’mon.” The sound Steve makes is fucking heartbreaking. “Don’t. Not right now. Bucky, you’ve been…off, since New Haven. Is it…Is it because.” Bucky can actually feel his heart stop. Steve knows. He’s realized just how damaged Bucky is.

“Steve I’m sorry. It’s, it has to be the serum. I won’t make you-” “Make me? This whole time I was thinking that it was me that-” Steve stops, throat working in a way that says he’s trying not to cry. “Did you even want it? In New Haven. Or did you just.” “No. No, no.”

He realizes his mistake when Steve flinches like he’s been hit. He’s across the room before he knows it, hands curling and uncurling because he doesn’t know if he should touch. If he  _can_.

“I meant that it wasn’t that Steve, Christ. I want you. I always want you. I’m going crazy wanting you, and I’m so sorry. I won’t push.” Steve surprises him with a bitter bark of laughter. “I was trying not to push  _you_. You think I’m not gagging for it? Every morning in the shower-” “Me too. In our bed.”

They pause, then break out in a fit of hysterical giggles. Bucky slowly rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“We must be the dumbest motherfuckers alive, Rogers. Would you just tell me, next time?” Steve snorts. “What about you? God, you were always horny Buck, but if your serum hits you half as hard as it hits me…Dumbest motherfuckers is right.” He’s smiling. “Yeah? Well I love you, stupid. Now lemme show you”.

Steve’s face breaks open like light between clouds. Bucky can feel the wide grin on his own face and he knows this is the best night he’s had in his life.

Even if they do break the punching bag, and the mirrors lining the wall, and the wall itself. When Clint finds them he just sighs “again?”

They move the next round to their bedroom.

Things change after that, and Bucky’s happy to accept that. He and Steve make time together, around three times a day. The serum is only partly responsible for that, but they’re owed this, after so long apart. There’s still things that trip them up, of course, but they’re working through it.

On some days Bucky takes perverse pleasure in saying no, we’ll do this later. Steve doesn’t really mind though. They accept the team’s catcalls and jokes, too.

Bucky curls around Steve on a couch in the living room and Tony groans. “I liked it way better when the two of you were repressed and virginal”. Steve laughs “I haven’t been a virgin since before you were  _born_ , ya whippersnapper”. Tony doubles over in inelegant snorting, the way he always does when they play along.

Steve runs a hand down Bucky’s side. The sensation travels through him, warm and easy. Maybe they’ll have sex later. Maybe not. Whatever they want.

Bucky’s not at war or a bank vault or a stranger in his own skin. He’s in a ridiculous skyscraper in Manhattan in the twenty-first century, curled around a boy he’s loved for nearly a century, and he’s doing okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky's experiences draw heavily from the ones [described by this heroin addict](http://www.cracked.com/personal-experiences-1306-5-unexpected-things-i-learned-from-being-heroin-addict.html) in point three of that article. And the title is from [_Wow! I can get sexual too_ by Say Anything](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpWGhCTw_l8) because I think I'm funny.


End file.
